The Smudge and other Poems (MY POETRY PAGE)

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There is the smudged print of a tip
of a finger on that mirror : It approves not
of love
hatred
presence or absence of either one or
any other story or love or hatred…
Or about both.
There is a smudged print of a tip
of a finger on a mirror:
It was not cleaned,
it is there to stay
till the cleaning day…May be
forever.
(Find this poem on
http://soundcloud.com/georgebost)
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Winter Night (poetic thought by George-B)
Then there was no sound to be heard
while the light dimmed –
behind the darkness only few impressions survived…
An owl attacked, and a mouse gave the last cry…
A handful of wind combed the plane of the leaves,
the plane of the air behind the branches:
The ripple in the still surface of the pond
froze then, as if touched by a spell:
‘There is no Spring in sight… not anytime soon…’
(posted Here )
Also on: http://soundcloud.com/georgebost)
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Essential 1 (poetic thought by George-b)
My being was hungry today:
My eyes avidly took in every sight
My ears listened, and listened to large itunes playlist
“What’s up?”, “Firewood”, hundred other songs
My nose grasped every scent – the freshly cut grass,
The dogs beach, the beer smelling sun block lotion
My skin froze and then it thaw, and then it dried again
Inside my head, I feel the making of today’s memories
A squirrel held me by my hand,
took the almond offered,
with delicate grace, almost human…
Yes I made it all about myself today….
Tomorrow, will tomorrow remember me?
(Posted Here)
Now also on http://soundcloud.com/georgebost
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Elements: Water (poetic thought, by George-b)
Remember to touch the rain,
each time God sends it your way,
even if a single droplet:
Remember water was before right after air,
in an ancestral time, between waters, before the ocean broke,
and air took the first breath.
Remember thirst, before you’re thirsty:
drink and drink, stop for breath,
and then drink some more…
Water: You’re into it, it floats into you,
Dry-up not, like a mummy
a gypsum cast around a broken limb
a tear on the salty, itchy chin…
(Posted Here)

—–//—–//—–
Rap-tonguelar
(a poetic thought by George-b)
A world ripped from magic, from stories
of coming and going, on perpetual passing heroes
With magic gone so are the heroes,
with heroes gone so is hope than
hope replaced by the illusion of truth, the deniers of humanity, the dark heroes
here for themselves,
self, sell-fish-ly weak,
feeding on weakness, on innocence, on hunger,
drank with victory over blood, blood that belongs to others,
true heroes, indeed, in a world unmagical,
disrobed of magic the Emperor wear the illusion of clothes,
press free togas so now the empty scene of the theater itself curtain-less, always visible to the eye fearoverhopeoverthetopfearoffearitselfortheoverthetopcoldheatoflieskeepsonefromfreezing: yes the longest multi-word not yet in your dictionary is finally here: happy elections 2012,2016,10162020,and onandonandon: aberration!

Line art drawing of a man in a toga. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

(Now On SoundCloud)
(Posted Here)

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Alchemy: moments to jewels

alchemy: moments to jewels
the moments past are now my jewels
long time have they been polished
In the clean interstellar void, beyond…
The place I keep them is no secret ,
the perfect vault’s, my heart ;
from time to time I take few out to wear,
sometimes they’re meant as truthful gifts
for those who care…
Will the moments survive?
(2012, copyright, poems, George-B, euzicasa)

(Posted Here)
(Now On SoundCloud)

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Only Gibberish (a poetic Thought)

(by George-b)

The Moon is hiding in plain sight,
behind a tree,
an underpass,
a fork in the road,
a sudden turn into the light –
Its there, it’s here – hangs out as always, but: not for me to hunt…

Not even one snapshot….

The Moon was… Shy tonight or quite not photogenic,
I gave one try, I gave it four, and then, with a sigh I said:
“I haven’t got the Moon”, I said, “Its only Gibberish I got!”

The Moon was shy…

Only Gibberish, tonight!

• (Now On SoundCloud)

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A pebble’s memories
(by George-b)
In dreams we’re loved and cared for
while daylight is for returning
The love and care our dream
gathered for us
while innocently dreaming –
For instance: take this fragment
of a larger pebble, almost a stone,
still dreaming of the mountain around it once ,
while under ice being forsaken for Eons;
will it remember of the mountain it once were,
the way it felt, the way it…rocked?
The way the solid water worked onto the crevice,
breaking more ,
While the time had flowed Eons…

Pebbles on Findhorn Beach
(Photo credit: Assaulted Peanut)

(Now On SoundCloud)

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tell me: another way (by George-b)

another way to say I love you
another way to say goodbye
another way to say I miss you
another way to say enough

another way to say I’m finished
another way to say good luck
another way to say I’m sorry
another way to say I’m leaving

Another way to say I’m thristy
another way to say forgive me
another way to say get out
another way to say good morning

another way to say good night….

Thank you.
(Now On SoundCloud)

tell me (by George-b) (my poetic thoughts)

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Rugaciune (Gand poetic by George-B)
Doamne,
Ajuta-mi sa ma desprind de lume
Far-de regret
Iar daca vei voi ca sa revin,
Fa-ma sa plutesc usor
ca ceata in noiembrie,
puful lasat de-o ciocarlie-n cuib,
ca praful ce se-asterne far-prihana
cu vantul adormit.
(Now On SoundCloud)
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Remember (poetic Thought by George-B)

From all the places
I’ve missed, I sent you a thought

From those I went to, you were with me

But from the places I’ll never reach
make those your trail –

Remember…
(Now On SoundCloud)

—–//—–//—–
Of old photos(Poetic Thought by George-B)
Snap – flash the memory is – more or less – created…
Now let the time work over its details
Taking here – giving there: color fading,
mothball’s faint aroma or perhaps tobacco,
sometime incense…
Give time a chance to work the memory
(Now On SoundCloud)

—–//—–//——
Meditating (Poetic Thought by George-B)

Being beyond having to be seen,
Heard, asked to move, pardoned
Somehow like a tree
One drop of rain
A spec of dust
A star too far,
Yet: Being,
For a while, just being…
(Now on SoudCloud)

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Inspiration (poetic Thought by George-B)
What better place to get inspired
than the ever changing interface between
land and water,
continent and ocean:
The Sea’s perpetual movement
the speed of the birds search for the crustaceans at the edge of the water,
intrigued me, and inspired an ever so short thought,
about the brevity, while still larger than life,
symbolism of moments,
few moments, that repeat the pseudo-symbiosis:
One of a lifeless nature,
the other full with life
and both in coordinated movement.
(now on SoundCloud)

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Modern Mythology(Poetic Thought by George-B)
In the beginning the Earth was … flat, like an Olympian disk,
elephants, lions even Atlas, were holding it on tired shoulders.
One morning came when suddenly
the Earth reached its roundness –
From discoid to geoid, like a remembered dream!
The universe never seemed impressed…
(Now On SoundCloud)

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Music and truth
(poetic thought by George-B)
Music CAN’T lie
Sadness in sadness, as happiness just that
The tone that makes that music
Its meter understanding, alterations…
There is the master-key, the pas-par-tout
Music could not have lied – it tells always the truth,
from birth to death, to dusk,
Music only knows what’s true.
(Now on SoundCloud)

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Breezy Interiors (poetic thought by george-b)
Pale, windy breeze insinuates itself
through the silence between the silky, coral curtains:
as if expecting hurricanes they part,
swaying inwardly, allowing the few droplets of rainwater,
to settle on the bunch of artificial flowers, resting on the coffee table.
It all lasts only for a thirsty moment… it pauses then,
only to start anew.
(Now on SoundCloud)

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My Inner Clock, (Poetic thought by George-B)

I woke up that day, rested
Sunrise through heavy curtain…

‘Tomorrow’ was permeating thru me immaterially-
as sunrise was falling into a sunset but day into night…
The time-watcher -the clock -winking its green LED at me: ‘PM’

The sun was to rise one more time, just wait…What’s the hurry…

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Question (poetic thought by George-B)

We live our lives suspended
– between Mother Earth and
Mother of the Moon-
a ladder too high to climb,
mud grabbing at the knee… Question:
will the lightness of the souls ascend?
(Now on SoundCloud)

(Inspired by:
Georgia O’Keeffe painting, “Ladder to the Moon”, as described by Kris Merino (Intelligent Life: http://myintelligentlife.wordpress.com/2012/02/09/ladder-to-the-moon/)

Image via Wikipedia

Related articles

• Avant garde women: Georgia O’Keeffe (lostintown.wordpress.com)

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Truth as Light (poetic Thought by George-B)
One morning the heavy curtain was removed.
The Truth was finally exposed, as Light.
Unquestionable light, unique, all clean,
kind… Comforting…
Comforting to know the aspect of Truth:
Shapeless with shape, boundless, within bounds,
all self providing.

Adevarul ca Lumina
de George-B (EuZicAsa) – tălmăcire liberă –
Într-o dimineaţă cortina grea era inlăturatată.
Adevărul a fost în cele din urmă expus, ca lumină.
Lumină indiscutabila, unică, curată intr-u totul,
buna … Reconfortantă …
Reconfortant să afli aspectul adevărului:
Fără formă ca formă, fără limită, în termen de limite,
complet dezvăluit .
(Now on SoundCloud)————————-//—————————-//—————————

Soul of Stone (By George)
I have leaned on you
until you turned into statue –
of white marble with bluish veins –
unmoved, cold…
soul of stone:
what would move you?
Suflet împietrit
M-am sprijinit de tine
pana-ai devenit statuie-
de marmura alba, cu vine vinetii-
nemiscată, rece…
Suflet împietrit:
Ce te-ar putea misca oare?
(Now on SoundCloud)

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Water
Water knows the true horizon –
the depth and the hight, bellow and beneath
Touch: Water the air, air the water –
Mix: appear, disappear, reappear
Life.
(By George©)

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What Day Is today? (poetic Thought by George-B)

Today I set aside my…daily obligations

to contemplate the unknown ahead

Today I look over my shoulder, while still backing up,

to cut or not the cord already severed?

Question: What day is today?

What time do you have?

How do you know it?

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Can Money Buy?(poetic thought by George-B)
Can money buy everything?
Money can buy everything, that’s material,
perishable, changeable, chargeable…
Can money buy a soul,
Can it buy a heart, Gods, anything nonperishable,
something immortal?
Can money buy wisdom?
No,
but wisdom can buy the peace of mind,
that no amount of money
will ever buy…
(Posted Here)
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Love, (Poetic thought by George-B)
I love you –
At night lets discover
The universe together,
Go
where stars live
on the dark side of the moon,
in the whirls of the Solar wind,
let’s get a midnight suntan
under the cold moonlight-
I love you…
(posted Here)

Nights and A Day (poetic thought by George-b)

Resentment is an aching heart,
A feeling – as material as black holes of a soul –
The soul of the universe is darker than the
Black hole in one’s aching heart,
All that light poured in,
Keeps it for ever mortal.

All light is engulfed,
By the stories of vampires, and Batory, and other blue bloods…
While the mistress of the night, restores till sunsets – So fireworks leave less smoke behind. Than the day washes off a night’s makeup,
the glamour, now removed is lost to the black hole:
Self denial is key – love as fear and guilt go hand in hand.

With the evidence that shadows have been breathed in by the greedy black hole,

Ever restoring nothing…
(postedHere)

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Angelic Thought (poetic thought by George-b)

didn’t battle lately
life goes on

didn’t sway any soul, in the youthful – heartbeat – faster, way
life goes on

didn’t drop a precious vase, a bone, a glass,
life goes on

returning into my body every morning
and still dreaming of us,

while, well, life goes on…

will it ever win my wings?
(posted Here)

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land (poetic thought by George-G)
You bring the best in me
I’d grow a red beard, and wear an eye patch (over)
a good eye
get the scariest of tattoo, right over my –
your name is on it for ten thousand years
and eternity – you’re smiling –
oh yes, you think, I wouldn’t wear a hook on my good hand
and wear a 30lb sword for you?
All for you, I’ll sing your song, and carry your flag…
(posted Here)
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Honky Tonk Seep (poetic thought by George-B)
The mind said YES,
but the rest won’t approve,
letting down not
when the mind’s set on it…
One word: Mindfulness.
(posted Here)
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Life goes on (poetic thought by George-B)
never, never out of date – a funeral, a baptism,
life goes on
a genetic mutation, engineered,
life goes on
artificial tomato, corn, soy
life goes on
biting a subdued victim,
burnin’ of books of prayer,
life goes on
hangin’ the innocent, when it’s known
to be so, innocent,
life goes on
Our tacitly enabling silence
life dies!
(postedHere)

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Adam’s prayer (poetic thought by George-B)

‘Eve,

I woke up this morning with pain
in my side – you weren’t there
I was alone, in pain and I was cold –
in your convexity my painful concavity resides…

Please return my rib.

I miss you both,

Adam.’

(PostedHere)
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Eve’s Word to Adam (poetic thought by George-B)

‘Adam, we didn’t need to talk,

my absence was farewell enough,

the rib Adam, well , it was a gift, remember,

a graft I couldn’t do without,

you understand…

Take care of yourself, workout, get a tan,
just as you used to back when…

Dates -treat them right Adam,

Eve.’
(posted Here)

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Un peste galbior (gand poetic de George-B)

Pe vederea-ngalbenita

Viata scursa pic cu pic

formeaz-o balta…

Un pestisor galbior, vorbeste nimic,

visand la cele zece noua opt sapte sase cinci patru trei doi unu ….

nimic, si dela capat…

nu-i loc de amintiri in peste, nu-i loc de fantezie,

acum un an era zece noua opt sapte sase cinci patru trei doi unu una nimic,

si-apoi nimic din nou in zece, noua….

a golden fish (poetic thought by George-B)

On the yellowed postcard,

Life oozed drop by drop

collecting into a pond…

A golden fish, said nothing,

Dreaming of the last ten, nine eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…

Nothing, and from the beginning…

There is no place for memories in a fish, no place for fantasy,

A year passed was ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one masculine, one feminine,

Then nothing and again ten, nine…
(posted Here)

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Today (poetic thought by George-B)
The weather was rigid today,
remnant of monastic life perpetrated
in hollowed spaces in chalk stone,
now smoked by the candles consumed by flames for:
– A dead leaf, I avoided stepping on,
– A fallen pine branch, soon forests of evergreen are to be cut,
and sold, and bought, and decorated,
– A spider web, water repelling but sticky to skins, spread wide ,
like a Beverly Hills all important mansion – people moving in-moving out, perpetually.
It’s sunny now, half the day through…
It’s sunny now, at my place now!
(postedHere)

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November fog(poetic thought by George B)
Love is a smudge of a hand,
on the foggy window
smelling of fog, of a cold November night
making its way through the layers of coats
overcoats, and to cling to skin and bones in a solid embrace – brrrrrrrrr rhythmically –
for few long minutes, dripping on the rugs
with a washing like motions hands reach for heat
almost into the fireplace’s wood fire,
while the fog dissipates.
(Posted Here)

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Mortal portal (poetic thought by George-B)
Point of no return…
Turn on the spiral, downward,
Faster, faster, faster
The event horizon ahead,
for sole destination,
a circumference –
heavenly blessing –
nowhere in sight…
(posted Here)
——-//——-//———
Spiral, A poetic thought by George-B

(posted Here)
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?????????????? Answered (poetic thought by George-B)
Love, love, love,
is it love,
if one cannot embrace human vanity
or is it just plain silliness?
Should love be sang, declared,
or deep in one’s heart vault be contained,
no,
not like in a prison cell, but like
a precious ore not yet uncovered, claimed, explored…
not yet EXPLOITED, by anyone,
ever so well unclaimed,
it shines like the sum of all suns

Time is capricious, love unclaimed transcends.
(Posted Here )
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The real dream (poetic thought by George-B)
dreams are parallel realities,
alternate realities,
really,
they aren’t viable
dreams, are so far from reality
far beyond… unreachable
unless
one makes reality THE DREAM,
then only
making that dream
reality…
And that is all…that’s that.

(Posted Here )
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Captive Memory (poetic thought by George-B)
I hold the memory of you__________
on the floor, under the lower shelf
of my showcase,
deep inside my vault of antiques,
“touching would turn it into devouring sands,”
I’m thinking, “I keep you safe,
captive,
not by chance.”
(Posted Here)
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Inevitable Moments (poetic thought by George-B)
Lately he dreamed not
While asleep
But while awake.
Sands, shallow waters,
Mixing with each other at the ever moving line between them,
Yet never an angry charge, tide high, low, very low-
Half a mile into the water up to the knees, pinched now and then by little water creatures- until the white whale came
asking for a place to rest,
Permanently, silently, just with slow taps of the tail, like a long tap on the tatami, by the one pinned to the floor – just that – then some people trying to keep the whale from giving up – the whale didn’t care – It was too late to resume the position of the largest creature of the sea.
At that moment he stopped dreaming…
(posted Here)
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Molecule (poetic thought, by George-B)
Love so deep…
I understand,
love is what you are –
chalice golden of nectar, sweet,
that every life adores.
A kiss – an image of a scintillation,
wave of enchanting harmony
love that lasted long enough as to become encrusted,
as name, as bone and blood and dust, a universe evolved,
a name, a bone, blood and dust, new universe…enchanting.
(Posted Here)
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Argument (poetic thought by George-B)
purposeless reason, for a purposeful universe…
purposeless universe with a purposeful reason…
and the reasons are…to be infinitely argued!

(Posted Here)
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All So Digital (poetic thought by George-B)
If zeros and ones, arranged anyhow would give:
A scent, a feeling, heartache, a tooth pain –
If zeros and ones, arranged anyhow would take away:
a scent, a feeling, heartache, a tooth pain –
If zeros and ones, arranged anyhow would give or take away
an old love,
a new heart, for a used one,
a painless tooth…
Would zeros and one , virtually speaking, become then real?
Zeros and ones… Do they give?
Do they take?
Do they?
(Posted Here)
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Departure (poetic thought by George-b)
I’ve parted with symbols – rings
bracelets chains –
my blinking eyes for rhythm,
For thirst my breath –
I’m free to flyaway.
(Posted Here)
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One for the bait (poetic thought by George-B)
I freed the worm from the hook
to give it a second chance to life.
I hooked myself but it’s too late
in the season for fishing.
I shaved, hoping to please some killer whale
with no result
so
Here I am,
I can’t even make the bait.
(posted Here)
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unemotional (poetic thought by George-B)
Giving receiver, how have you become?
Without feelings, a smile’s a grin,
A portrait, a monster, a fake an original,
life dead,
The burning face in the painting is Gioconda’s –
Libria, I Salute you!
disease is the human emotion
Peace come
Burn the painting, burn the book, make anti-art
Unemotional, the world is once again flat,
Soulless, uninhibited
I freed the bait from the hook of life
giving it fair chance to fate.
(Posted Here)
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towed out (poetic thought by George_B)
with time we leave
behind memories,
while some evade,
some revisit now and then,
and some we’re towing out,
passing gravely, looking down,
to nothing in particular
sad burden like towed out sailboats .

Ilia_Efimovich_Repin_(1844-1930)_-_Volga_Boatmen_(1870-1873)

Repin Ilya Efimov
Self Portrait (1887)
Born	5 August 1844 Ciuguev , Ukraine
Died	29 September 1930 (at 86 years) Kuokkala , Finland
Nationality	Russian
Artistic field	Picture
Training	Imperial Academy of Arts
Artistic movement	Realism
Major works	Ivan the Terrible and his son Zaporozhian Cossacks reply to Sultan Mehmed IV of the Ottoman Empire on the Volga Edecarii
Influenced by	Rembrandt

(Access source)
(posted Here)
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event horizon (poetic thought by George-B)
Point of no return…
Lives on the downward spiral
Faster, faster, faster –
The event horizon ahead,
for sole destination
a captive perimeter, a vortex
blessing –
nowhere in sight

Game: Gravity Well
Title: Event Horizon
Composer: The Humble Brothers

(Posted HERE)
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Shivers (poetic thought by George-B)
Cold as a smudge on hands,
on the fogged up windows,
smelly fog of this foggy night in November
fog penetrating overcoats,
clinging to skin and bones in a solid embrace –
few long minutes of rhythmic shaking–
dripping fog on rugs…
with washing like motions hands reach for heat
nearly missing the flames’ dance in the fireplace,
while the evaporating fog dissipates
(Posted Here)
——————-//——————–//———————
Akismet (poetic thought by George-B)
If you’re looking for Penny
her last name is Stocks
there are lots of Spammers,
just check your Spam Mat,
the one with tacky cling,
but when and if in doubt,
Trust Akismet.

“Spam: scrub it off clean, hard and often!”

(Posted Here)
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Predictions (poetic thought by George-B)
But the sky failed to fall,
fulfilling their prediction
the rivers run, like yesterday
there is no, deviation

the air, dusty as before,
is neither colder, nor in heat
prediction was for a different scene,
another studio and film
scenarios
it’s all to be, just script.
(Posted Here)

———————-//———————-//——————–
Iubirea (poetic thought by George_B)
Speram sa pot vedea din nou
iubirea,
Reflectata-n-albastrul ochilor tai
Speram sa pot sa regasesc privirea
Dar ce-am gasit e golul revarsat,
vant rece de apus,
undeva sus,
deasupra razei lunii,
asa c-acum, patruns de frig,
ma string in brate,
cuprins de dor, de jale, de singurate,
precum o pasare care-si ascunde capul in pene, sub aripa…Asa va trece, inc-o noapte, rece,
fara odihna, fara focul cald al vietii…unde-i
iubirea.
(Posted Here)
————————–//————————-//————————–
On War and Peace (poetic thought by George-B)
The war on peace
Continues uninterrupted – the perpetual war-
we’re made to believe it’s necessary
as tears in the foundation of our humanity, to keep it moist…
Humanity, whatever else is left to tear, decays, into the darkness of free depravity, selfishness, greed, corruption….at our expense, on our dime, irrevocable sentences passed, bought on our dime…
The answers to the questions never asked
put in prospective the final frontier – the free fall of
free market,
free the pieces of peace left,
free beluga,
and tortoise…
not to be accused of trade in temples,
they made temple of trade, hymns, prayers an obscene virtual g-ds- cyclopeslike
Freeze the hypocritical insanity of the one man war warrior, man’o’war.
(Posted Here)
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Paradise Lost (Poetic thought by George-B)
We wandered out of Paradise
Hoping to find beyond
An archer, a trident, other broken hearts,
an onyx spear
bluer skies,
beyond all skies,
another word for…Love and
for Home and Homebound…
Well indeed for everything that we’ve abandoned
along the foot pass that we made
In search of the, now, lost Paradise.
We had it all, we wandered of,
and lost we thereof became,
In search of more splendid Paradise.
(Posted HERE)

———————//———————-//———————
The Storm before the calm (poetic thought by George-B)
I float, now, at fate’s will, karma – for sail,
fate – for rudder while I remain,
just a resigned captain, passenger and sole survivor,
Surreally true…
Show me to the shore,
show me the rock, the birds,
show me the current to the light house,
to become again homeward bound,
from the storm before the calm
(posted HERE)
—————//——————//——————–
From a Hilltop (Poetic thought by George-B)
From this height I can see the cities bellow,
partially obscured By a fine curtain of tasteless,
yellow-brownish smoke…
I’m immersed in it as well,
but a false sense of security overrides the sad fact
Otherwise, oh, what a splendid sight:There is Whittier,
and further down South Pomona, El Monte, Downey;
Towards the ocean Downtown LA, Hollywood and Santa Monica:
Over there, an airplane seems to shoulder its way toward an airport
And an helicopter, turns in mile-large circles over 605 Fwy
while cars are shining in both directions,
tiny as ants, in ever towering traffic.
Here is Rose Hills, a place where silence is as habitual,
As the presence of birds in the skies.
A wondrous place, a hilltop, so many things to take in,
So many things to try not to forget,
so many trails, so little time to rest.

(Posted Here)
———————//———————-//————————
and then the cold (poetic thought by George-B)
And so it was
The blue immersed in red
With no other contact than the center
Pulsing like a engorged vein, huff, huff,
Repulsing like a tapered vein, hmm, hmm,
Nothing taken for granted, nothing to be thankful
Except for the huff, and hmm….and then fainter,
and after a while
Silence…
And then the cold…
(Posted Here)
——————–//———————-//————————
All so natural (poetic thought by George-B)

A toy unwinding one last turn
A frog held by the egret’s beak ,
A turtle on its back,
A duck pedaling while in full tilt,
A grasshopper glued on a frog’s tongue
A giraffe caught between two trees

A fish speeding from another fish,
A puffer fish ingested by a shark…

All so natural, all so self serving…

A man, who eats his neighbor’s food,
reads his paper, reads his letters
And pretend they all belong to him…

A g-d that seams to let it all occur.
(PostedHere)
———————-//————————//———————-
from the fishbowl (Poetic Thought by George-B)
Activism from the fishbowl,
is a rare human achievement
In the humanbowl we swim,
feeling protected from the uncharted scene outside
In the humanbowl we fly, keeping the air in mind,
so at least one survives
the flight….
upon arrival, he reports to …no one.
(posted Here)
———————-//———————//————————

lost to illusions (poetic thought by George-B)
To be unaffected,
appropriately,

in reality renders one

inhuman:

Feel as one may

unfeeling is a dead soul

a

lost soul

a soul lost to illusions .

(Posted HERE)

———————//———————//——————-
I regret none, I regret not! (poetic thought by George-B)

From all the opportunities
That passed me
That I let pass me, unintercepted
Not hooked by my fishing hook,
Uncaught in my butterfly net,
Freed like the “Red Balloon”,
Left to grow under the turned stone-
I regret none

Not a tear of regret, not a sigh,
Long or short….

Because they did not belonged to me, therefore:

What good would come out of regretting

The free choice, the decision made
in good faith, Faithfully,
believing that
Yet another opportunity will arrive:

To my fishing hook,
My butterfly net,
My open hand,
From under the next stone I’ll turn over….

I regret none, I regret not.

……>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>(posted Here)
—————————//————————//———————–
Free market (poetic thought by George-B)
There is a war
in my pocket
between the banker and the healer,
the feeder and the telemarketer ,
seller and the buyer,
all climbed into my pocket:
will I be able to feed them all
from my pocket forever?
(>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Posted HERE)
—————————//————————-//————————-
My Inner Alarm Clock (poetic thought by George-B)
The Day licks at the leaves of time,
I respond by turning off
the ringing in my loud inner alarm clock;
It yawns and stretches me three times…

But I’m not ready to jump and
I’m asking myself “why?”, shyly,
As if afraid not to wake up fully,
irreversibly,
for another day and half a night:
“Where were the yawns last night before I could not sleep?”,
I ask my inner clock…
No answer:
“It seems now that it woke me up it went to sleep,
but what about me…”
“That’s an unsolved mystery of unspecified complexity….”
“Oh forget it,
Not another sheep counting contest, again, tonight!”

The_Persistence_of_Memory (Salvador Dali)

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>Published here
(Now also on SoundCloud)
—————————//—————————–//—————————-

Close your eyes-
There is so much to see
in the deep recesses of your soul
The shadows come to life
In the recesses of your soul…
There is a healing breeze
A faint fragrance of sage and tarragon
A breastbone yet to break
A chance that’s only yours
A closed door once now opens,
A brave large bird circling the scene,
From seemingly unsurpassed heights…
The vision from above is clear,
And rarity of air makes thing simple:
To breathe or not to breathe becomes the question
To breathe and breathe again the only answer
Coming from the upper room.
(Posted HERE)
—————//——————//——————

freedom to choose (poetic thought by George-B)
It takes time, attention, redirection
to uncover beauty
To find beauty dressed as tree
Sea
Cloud
Woman
Song
Flower
Fragrance…
It takes humanity
Wisdom
Time
Time
Time
And more time to reclaim your soul
stolen by McDonalds,
Coors,
Gecko,
Commercials – for junk food like flying burgers and fries,
extras large with gallons of harsh soft drinks, above a frozen beach,
state farm insurance,
verizon with no horizon,
just flying polluting banners of
air, water, mind, soul, stomach, life, airways, freeway,
always life,
distorsion,
abuse, quantifiable theft of freedom,
freedom to choose.>>>>>>>>>>>>(posted HERE)
——————-//—————-//—————-

I crave a love, an eager one, to please the whole of me.

(Poetic thought by GeorgeB.)

I crave a love, an eager one, to please the whole of me.

Not self love, and NOT the love for another…but the love for ALL, for ALL EXISTANCE…A GODLY LOVE, the love that GOD ITSELVES might’ve felt…creating all there is, the UNIVERSE, as it moves, unknown, from alpha to omega, and than back, such as is breathing in a live body, in long, certain, precisely measured, hulks of breathings-in and breathings-out, and holding back in the betweens…just to a count of five…

Oh yeah, I know the sense of what I want: it’s like the waves that moves the oceans and like the space winds in the void between the universes…

I know: it’s all that one feels when hugged by the loved one when the rapid beatings of the heart calm down to a wisper barely felt, transformed being into the bare ear into the silent void between the spheres.

That’s it, I said it all, I’m… fast…asleep…

(Lucy Hale, Aria in PLL SHOW)

—————–//—————-//———–

We truly believe, poetic thought by George B

We truly believe that our dreams will become reality,
The moment we wake up…like alchemists believed once that lead will become, somehow…gold.

We truly believe that our future will be bright, and everlasting life, some hope, and others that the Earth, will warm up, the boiling of the waters of the seas, and everlasting death…

What is your belief?

What will really happen?

God leaves the question unanswered, and so does all angels, the devil, and all religions,

And in absentia: our intellect is strangled!

————//———————//———–

God only knows, why it all turned down to dances…(poetic thought by George B)

Eve is so bored…she dances dances dances till exhaustion, till collapse till falling out of the garden to the place bellow- dark, mystic, constrictive, conveyor of senseless feelings…

Eve is bored with Adam…but why? Weren’t they made for each other? Was it the air in the garden or the tree was too small and the fruit too close to touch, to all senses?

Was is it the serpent?

It is all up in the air, it is the unanswerable question…

God only knows, why it all turned down to dances…

(poetic thought by George B)

———//————//————-

We’ll wait and see, but chances are… (Poetic thought by GeorgeB)

Detached from the dormant tree
All the dried leaves have fallen but one…a special one,

for unknown reasons…
The winds didn’t detach it,

nor did the cold rains,

the freezing breezes of December or

the early mornings’ icy crystals of frozen water…

all these barely scratched new tears

upon its dried out reddish-brown, wrinkled face…

Will it survive the winter?

Will it hang around till spring?

Will it be the exceptional leave its home, no matter what?

Will it be the last of the survivors, born on the death list,

in the country of the dead,

under the symbols of the crossed sickle-n- hammer

we’ll wait and see, but chances are…

(Transmission interupted here)

(Poetic thought by GeorgeB)

—–//—–//—–

Haiku: Night(© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

Nights get much longer

Than days, year in and out.

Will it ever stop?

俳句：夜
（GeorgeBによる詩的思考）
夜はずっと長くなります
日よりも、年も年も。
止まるでしょうか？
Note: I do not speak Japanese, therefore I had Google Translate di the translation for me (from English to Japanese). Please correct, if you find it unnecessary!
Thank you!

 

—–//—–//—–

Unpainting…a perfectly painted tableau

( ©poetic thought by GeorgeB @euzicasa)
Everyday I…I efface another color
of my perfectly painted tableau,
accomplishment of the day past…
I aim for a unicolor, a pure black or white, I can’t make up my mind…
So, every morning, seated at my easel, I use the widest paintbrush, and chose, today will be white over black, to cover the painting behind, to hide yesternight hard work, to start anew,
a new memory, painted over an older one,
no holidays,
weekends,
only Monday Mornings,
nonstop,
in perpetuity,
forever Amen!

—-//—–//—–

 

Haiku: New, old, always ONE

(© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

New, old, always ONE:

Days of our lives spent, spilled, shelved.

Shelf after shelf: ONE.

 

 

—–//—–//—–

Haiku: Roberta Flack

(© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

Killing me softly

with her voice, like the wind

In the dry corn, rows.

—–//—–//—–

Haiku: Earth, our season

(© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

Earth: a jungle, garden,

Desert, oasis, it’s our

doing, believe in  this!

—–//—–/—–

Haiku: Twenty five hours days

Twenty five hours days

Are unlike twenty three hours

In autumn and spring.

(© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

—–//—–//—–

Haiku: Blue skies at sunset (© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

Blue skies at sunset

Proceed starry nights throughout,

Sunny days to come.
—–//—–//—–

Haiku: Believes
(© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

Some younger people
Believe TV shows are true…
What’s reality?

—–//—–//—–

Haiku: Daylight (© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

Daylight is hidden-

Buried in thick piles of darkness…

We pray for daylight

—-//—–//—–

Haiku: Haiku def. (noun)

(© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

Five syllables words

Seven syllables follow

End… as it started.

Haiku

Haiku

—–//—–//—–

Haiku: Memories
(© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

Like clothes on clotheslines

Washed off a little each time:

Memories drying.

 

 

—–//—–//—–

Haiku: Few dead leaves and sticks (© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)

Few dead leaves and sticks make

live ikebana in vase…

No need to water.

Haiku: Few dead leaves and sticks (© poetic thought by GeorgeB @ euzicasa)